This chapter serves more to further the mystery, than the Tom/Minerva stuff, so sorry if you're looking for romance. I'm not all that great at writing anything mushy anyway. I would like to thank my great reviewers, cinnamon heart, MandaPandaAR, stsgirlie, and chilly for your support. I'm not planning on stopping this story anytime soon, but it's great to know that people are reading it and liking it. You guys made my day. Here's another chapter. Enjoy it and keep reviewing!

The Rounds

End-of-term exams were approaching rapidly and Minerva was struggling to obtain her usual sense of over-preparedness. She spent her mornings at classes, her afternoons in the library with Tom, and her evenings in Gryffindor tower studying diligently, if not overzealously, for her exams. On top of everything else, she still had quidditch practice and her prefect duties to attend to. She rarely made it to meals, and she was lucky if she got more than a few hours of sleep, and she was beginning to wonder if accepting the project was such a good idea after all.

Minerva sat rigidly at a table in the Gryffindor common room pouring over her arithmancy notes from two years before. She knew that it probably was unnecessary, but she also refused to make a mistake that could cost her the full marks she was accustomed to receiving. She glanced at her watch. It was almost time for rounds.

She placed a bookmark in her notes and shoved a few things in her bag. Although the common room was deserted, she knew that with her luck some ill-fated butterbeer would find a way to stain the pages of her meticulous notebook. She grabbed her wand, leaving the bag on the table, and walked out the door. The hallway was deserted, so she walked towards the west side of the castle to find Josiah Smelting, the Ravenclaw prefect.

A few nervous Gryffindors ran by her, stammering that they had been serving detention with Professor Slughorn and were not out past curfew. Minerva allowed them to pass, and they dashed off. She caught a few more students out and sent them back to their dormitories. The hallways were unusually busy for a night so close to exams. Minerva assumed it was just nerves. She found the entrance to Ravenclaw tower and waited. No one appeared.

After waiting for twenty minutes, she approached a rather agitated-looking portrait of a tiny witch. "Have you seen a Ravenclaw prefect leave the tower lately?" she asked.

The witch shook her head. "N-n-no b-b-but I d-d-did see a Slytherin p-p-prefect about an hour ago." Minerva glanced at the inscription at the bottom of the portrait - Sabina the Stuttering. It figured.

"Really," she mused. "Was it a boy or a girl?:

"B-b-boy."

"Tall, with black hair and dark brown eyes?"

"P-p-perhaps. It was d-d-dark and I c-c-couldn't see all that well."

Minerva tapped her wand absentmindedly on her leg. "Did he say anything or meet anyone?"

The little witch in the portrait shifted uneasily. "He t-t-talked to the Ravenclaw portrait. I d-d-didn't listen. I'm n-n-no eavesdropper." Minerva rolled her eyes. The portraits and their chivalry. She thanked Sabina the Stuttering and walked over to speak to the arrogant portrait of Balfour Bane.

"Ah, Miss McGonagall. Have you come to make another attempt at charming the suits of armor? I did so enjoy your abysmal failure last time."

"Shove off, Bane," Minerva grumbled. He had watched one of her first charms experiments her first year and had yet to let her forget it. "I just wanted to know what Tom Riddle said to you about an hour ago."

The large figure in the portrait adjusted his spectacles and smiled. "Mr. Riddle. Of course. I had forgotten the malicious things you two did to each other your first few years. He was always so much better at you in everything, especially charms. He is quite the wizard with that phoenix wand of his. It's a pity you cannot move past your pride and allow him to teach you something useful. Transfiguration is so overdone." Minerva gripped her wand and wondered how rewarding it would feel to hex a portrait.

"Yes, yes," she replied with a sigh. "He's better than me and smarter than me and always will be. Now, what did he say to you? I need to find him."

"So you finally admit it? I cannot wait to gloat to the Fat Lady. She said you'd never give in. Gryffindor pride, ha!"

"Bane. Please."

The portrait glared at her. "I don't think Tom would want me to tell you."

"Yes, but I must know. I was supposed to meet Josiah Smelting a half hour ago for rounds and he did not arrive. Tom may know where he is."

"Now I understand why you weren't in Ravenclaw. You haven't nearly the reasoning power."

"Just tell me!"

The tall wizard folded his arms and grinned smugly. "Why should I?"

"I can't believe I'm arguing with a painting," Minerva mumbled under her breath. "If you will just tell me where Tom Riddle is, I'll allow him to teach me something. How's that?"

"Good," Bane replied. Minerva sighed. Finally they were getting somewhere. "But I don't believe you."

Minerva groaned in frustration and turned to the other portraits in the hallway. "Did any of you hear what Tom said? I just need to get on with my rounds so I can go back to studying for exams. That's all I want."

"Well maybe if you were smart, like Tom or a Ravenclaw, you wouldn't have to study so much," the Ravenclaw portrait taunted. None of the other portraits spoke.

Minerva drew very close to Bane's portrait and looked him straight in the eye. "You are lucky I'm not two dimensional, or I'd come in there and -"

"Miss McGonagall, what on earth are you doing?"

Minerva closed her eyes and turned to face Headmaster Dippet.

"Sir, I…"

"She was threatening me, sir," Bane interrupted. Dippet frowned.

"That is ridiculous," Minerva snapped at the portrait. "Sir, I was only trying to find out where
Tom Riddle is. Josiah Smelting did not show up for prefect rounds and I know that Tom was in this hallway earlier this evening. I thought Tom might have taken Josiah's shift. Balfour Bane refused to give me any of the information I needed."

Dippet approached Minerva and cast a stern glance at the portrait. "While I do not see any reason for you to disturb the portraits, Miss McGonagall. I understand that you were only thinking of your duties."

"Thank you sir." She smiled happily at the Ravenclaw portrait who was fuming.

"As for Tom Riddle, he's been with me for the past hour."

"Oh." Minerva looked down at the floor. "And Smelting?"

"I do not know. Do you Sir Bane?"

The portrait shook his head. Minerva furrowed her brow.

"Very well then." The headmaster turned to Minerva. "I suggest you learn to improvise, Miss McGonagall, and do the rounds by yourself. I should think you would be competent enough to accomplish that." Minerva's mouth dropped. She had never gotten along well with the headmaster. He felt that she was too high-strung for the position of prefect and had qualms about her grasp on magic, mostly due to Tom's insistence regarding both. Dumbledore had been the driving force that cemented her position as prefect.

"But Headmaster…"

"I think that will be all Miss McGonagall."

"Yes, sir."

She waited until he had turned the corner before turning her wand threateningly on Balfour Bane. "I may not be as smart as Tom Riddle," she spat, "but I do know a simple incendio charm." Bane's eyes opened wide and Minerva walked away. She did not want to be alone in the hallways, especially not so late at night. It was nearing eleven o'clock and the castle had suddenly become deadly quiet.

Minerva kept her wand out as she walked cautiously down the corridors. After touring the third and fourth floors, she decided to check the sub-levels before she lost her nerve. The kitchen corridor and Hufflepuff wing were empty. She took a deep breath and descended to the dungeons. The smell of sulfur and bad cabbage filled her nose as she peeked into the potions classroom. No one was there, except Slughorn asleep at his desk. She grimaced and walked out. A small creak from one of the other rooms caused her hair to stand on end.

Looking furtively over her shoulder, she approached one of the smaller dungeon rooms. A crack in the old, wooden door was emitting a small beam of light. Minerva slowly reached to open the door and it slammed open into her. She let out a strangled yelp and flew onto the floor.

The light in the now open door illuminated a large figure. "Minerva! Wha' are ya doin' here?" a deep voice asked in surprise. Minerva's eyes adjusted and she took a deep breath.

"I should ask you the same thing, Rubeus. You are out past hours. What do you think you are doing down here?"

The large boy ambled out of the room and closed the door behind him. "Pas' hours?" he asked. "Wha' time is i'?"

Minerva allowed him to pull her to her feet and primly brushed the dust from her robes. "Half past eleven, Rubeus," she answered sternly. "I'm going to have to take off points."

Rubeus hung his head. It wasn't the first time he had lost house points. "Yeah, I s'pose ya would. Go 'head." Minerva sighed and motioned for him to come with her. "I mus' a jus' lost track a' time workin' on Potions." He shifted his eyes and shook his bushy head of hair. "Sorry."

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor." She hated doing it to him, but it was her job as a prefect. "Rubeus, do you mind walking with me on the rest of my rounds?" she asked. "I'm afraid I am all alone tonight and I keep getting startled by the most silly things." His large face perked up.

"I'd love to, Minerva. If'n ya don' mind me too much."

"I could use the company, Rubeus. Now come along." They made an odd-looking pair as they trudged around the castle. Minerva was tall, but looked like a dwarf next to Hagrid. He ambled along, chatting about his classes and how he wanted a dragon. Minerva pretended to listen, but her mind was elsewhere. What could Tom have asked the Ravenclaw portrait? And where was Smelting?

They continued their walk and finally headed towards Gryffindor tower. Hagrid stomped up to his dormitory and Minerva headed back to her studies. She surveyed the table and found that it was exactly how she had left it. Good. She was not in the mood to track down whoever moved her things.

She glanced at her watch - it was twelve o'clock. Her thoughts flew to Tom again. There were only five more days until Christmas break when she would have time to ask him about the Ravenclaw tower and his discussion with Headmaster Dippet. She glanced at her notes and buried her head in her hands. She needed to concentrate.

She hastily wrote out a few things and began the mathematical calculations she needed for a practice problem, but she could not get her mind off the evening. Distractedly, she shuffled around in her bag for a different subject. A book fell and knocked over her bottle of ink. Her hands tensed in frustration and her quill snapped in half. It was going to be a long night.